Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Danni’s POV
She sat with her legs crossed and palms clasped, and bent her head low. Her face held no affection. The coiffeur of her hair was sticking up and scattered. It looked like she had run her fingers through it. At a glance, her lips were pale and chapped with evidence of dried blood on it. She had chewed on her lips till it bled.
On her wrist was the hospital wristband, with her name written boldly on it 'Danielle.' A common hospital gown had an identification of the ward number on it, 'Patient 220.' Every patient in that hospital had a wristband and an identification number.
Everyone's socks was white and with a pair of white canvas to match.
There were fluffy slippers to change into when they were back in their wards. But the only difference was, that the females wore a blue gown, whilst the males wore a blue shirt and trouser
Not a day went by without patients fighting one another, and one of my friends was always involved.
It seemed he has never changed after all. We called him Lou a shorten version of his real name Louie.
His girlfriend's death added to his problems. She used to be my best friend. Everyday, in the morning, although the time varies, two nurses would come to get me to the conference room; it's more like an interview room, but I call it white and black room. The room had three screens; a big one in front of me, another behind me, and the last was by the left.
Some people would be inside the room to ask questions. If I couldn't answer, I'd sketch out what I can't say; sometimes saying the words out hurt my brain and every part of my body system. That gives the voices in my head the chance to torture me, thereby rendering me helpless.
Sometimes I forgot what I said the day before or whatever I've said, only to be reminded in thoughts or hallucinations. I could be walking to my ward with the nurses beside me, suddenly it will be just me alone in the corridor, seeing nobody, only hearing voices.
Unaware I’d follow the voice from the corridor to a door that was never there in reality. Holding onto the doorknob, myself I’d find in a puddle of blood or in the wood. Unnoticed, I would hold my head, screaming and thrashing around until they injected me.
From there, darkness would embrace me till I fall asleep and wake up from a recurring dream I keep having.
Him and I together, would sit on the rooftop of his house, holding hands and making jokes. This would make me to laugh until my ribs hurt. His remembrance came to mind, even in my schizophrenic state, I remember him well; he's the only thing keeping me sane and the only memory that I hold on to. My love kept apart from me, his name is Ezekiel, and the only man I had ever loved and will always love. I miss him so much. Ezekiel, Louie, Ruth, Stacie (dead), Jasper, Patrick and Ivan. We all are here, in this mental institution, and we see everyday but we're not allowed to communicate with each other yet, especially with Louie.
He's still mad at everyone for the death of his girlfriend, and in his little mind accuses us for being responsible for it. Though sometimes, he could not calm himself. I wonder how Ezekiel coped, Stacie was his sister, but she died in my arms if I’m correct. The incident infuriated Louie. Poor Louie, my sympathy for him stressed my brain.
Drawing is hard but talking is harder, they won't understand what you tell them, so I tend to draw, which makes it easier for me and hard for them. Well I don't know if I just chuckle about my drawing. My voice sounded horrible. I felt like sleeping and kept the drawing on the floor, curling into a fetal position to drift off to sleep.